“You had better?” Max had asked.
“No,” I’d answered.
Then he’d murmured, “Yeah.”
His “yeah” didn’t mean he felt the same. He hadn’t agreed that he hadn’t had better. He just knew I hadn’t.
Because he had. He’d been married to her. Funny, beautiful, forever young Anna with her blonde hair and her knack for making daisies, of all things, look sophisticated.
And he hadn’t said a word. Not one word.
All his pushing for me to share, he hadn’t shared. He’d mentioned his father, his sister, his mother, his land, but not the fact that he’d quite obviously been married to the love of his life and she’d died.
Which was a bloody big piece of history to keep to yourself.
I heard the murmur of voices approaching and I quickly moved back across the room in order to appear as if I’d been studying view. I turned my back to the entrance of the room and looked out the window, my eyes not seeing, my heart tripping over itself, that thing still lodged in my throat.
It would, of course, be me who would find an amazingly handsome Mountain Man with great hair, an attractive voice, an ability to show affection in a way that made you feel cherished, a protective streak that made you feel safe and, lastly, a dead wife who was the love of his life.
Meaning that was something I would never be. The love of Holden Maxwell’s life would never be me.
However, if we explored this, as Max wished to do, it was becoming more and more evident by the second, that he could be that for me.
“Sorry, Nina,” Bitsy called and I swallowed against the lump, forced a smile on my face and turned to her as she finished, “that took longer than I expected.”
“That’s all right,” I said, trying to sound cheerful but my voice seemed higher pitched and false. I kept talking to hide it. “You have a beautiful view.”
Bitsy wheeled herself close and looked out the window.
“Yeah,” she said as if she wasn’t entirely convinced then she looked at me and smiled her small, somewhat sad but still authentic smile. “Max’s is better.”
I nodded for what she said was true.
“Let’s get this done,” Max announced and I started at his gravelly voice and my eyes went to him.
He was looking down at Bitsy and he asked, “You want me to load up the motorized chair?”
“Nope, feel energetic today and not goin’ very far. This one’ll work,” Bitsy answered, wheeling herself back into the hall. “I’ll just get my coat and we’ll be on our way.”
I licked my lips and kept my eyes pointed at the floor as I headed to the front door.
“Duchess?” Max called when I was passing him.
I stopped, trying to clear my expression and I looked at him.
“Yes?” I asked.
His head tipped to the side, his eyes scanning my face before he asked back, “You okay?”
“Fine,” I lied, suddenly hating, no detesting, the fact that, even knowing him only a week, he could read my mood so easily.
“Honey,” he said softly, not believing me.
“I’m fine,” I repeated and he got close, hooking a finger in my side jeans belt loop, effectively, even affectionately, halting my progress when I moved to head to the door again.
“Nina,” he said and I looked up at him, wishing I didn’t like his finger in my belt loop so darned much. “She’s good,” he told me in a hushed voice. “She’s used to it. She adjusted a long time ago”
“What?” I asked.
“Her chair.”
I blinked as I realized Max thought my mood had shifted because Bitsy was reminding me of Charlie.
This was thoughtful, as Max, I knew since he’d exhibited this ability on more than one occasion, could be and I suddenly decided I detested that too.
“That’s good,” I muttered, pulled from his hold on my belt loop and headed to the door where a be-jacketed Bitsy was pulling it open.
“God, it’ll be good not to have to go somewhere in that stupid van,” Bitsy commented and looked at me, taking the sting out of her complaint by explaining, “I like the Cherokee.”
“Then you get to sit in front,” I told her, using this as my excuse not to be close to Max, not even in his car. I needed distance, I needed to think, I needed to process the knowledge I’d learned in Bitsy’s house and what it meant to me.
“Oh, that’s okay –” Bitsy began.
“I insist.”
“Really –”
I cut her off again saying, “Better views from up there.”
She gave me another smile and a, “Thanks,” then rolled herself out, down a ramp and to the front passenger side of Max’s Jeep.
Max opened the door and lifted Bitsy in without effort like he’d done it more than once before. I grabbed the chair and wheeled it to the rear of the truck, thinking he was so obviously strong and detesting that suddenly too. Bitsy was thin, though not skinny, and looked fit regardless of the wheelchair. But standing, as I saw in the photo, she was Anna’s height and Anna, I guessed, was my height which meant Bitsy was not exactly light as a feather.
I pulled the seat up at the middle, folding the chair as I’d done to Charlie’s time and time again, thinking Anna was blonde and she was my height. She was also, according to Arlene, funny. She didn’t look like me, I wasn’t hideous but I certainly didn’t have her beauty or her obvious effervescence, but we resembled each other.
Maybe Max, at long last, thought he’d found a replacement. Not the real thing, never to have the real thing again, but close enough.
“I got it, Duchess,” Max told me as I pulled up the back of the Cherokee to load the chair.
“Right,” I muttered and walked around him to sit behind Bitsy, not sparing him a glance. I got in and buckled up.
“It’s nice that you came, Nina,” Bitsy said into the car. “I know you’re on vacation and this is probably the last thing you wanted to do.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
Max got in and I noticed he did this twisted so his clear, gray, too intelligent eyes were on me. I looked out my window.
“Please don’t worry. I’m fine,” I told Bitsy but spoke to the window.
“It’s just that,” Bitsy said as Max switched on the ignition and started to back out, “Max and I’ve been friends for a good long while and I’d heard about you so I was curious. And, without making a big production out of it, I couldn’t come to you.”
“Really, it’s okay,” I assured her again. “It isn’t every day a girl goes to a Police Station. I came out for an adventure and here it is. I’m having it.”
She laughed quietly at my lame joke but she did it without a lot of humor. “Yeah, great adventure, hunh?”
I didn’t reply. Instead I hesitated then leaned forward, reached through and curled my fingers around her shoulder. I felt it tense under my hand but I gave it a squeeze and then pulled away and sat back.
We rode in silence to the Station, not exactly comfortable since everyone was in their own thoughts and none of our thoughts were good. However, fortunately, it wasn’t a long ride.
I stayed silent and hung back as Max took care of Bitsy and she wheeled herself into the Station.
“I’ll go find Mick,” Max said when we were all inside, moving forward, as usual taking charge and Bitsy looked relieved to wheel herself to a bank of chairs.
I followed and she backed in beside one, giving me my cue to sit by her.
“This is stupid, this whole thing,” she muttered when I sat down.
Her head was tilted down but she was looking under her lashes at the reception desk.
“What is?” I asked quietly.
“I shoulda let Mick come up to the house, talk to me there,” Bitsy looked at me, I noticed her face had changed, the mask was falling, grief was moving to the surface and she whispered, “I just couldn’t.”
“It’s okay,” I assured her.
“It’s already a crime sce
ne, my house.” She was still whispering. “I can’t go to the utility room. It’s roped off with yellow tape.”
These words made my heart hurt for her and my stomach pitch in revulsion at the knowledge she shared with me. So without hesitation this time, I covered her hand with mine. She turned hers so it was palm to palm and her fingers curled and, when they did, so did mine.
“You do this as you have to do it,” I said to her.
“I don’t want any more of this in my house.”
“Then that’s how you’re doing it.”
She looked to the reception desk and back at me. “I’m sorry, Nina. Max has enough to do. Mindy, you, all the stuff he has to see to when he’s in town. He doesn’t need me adding to all that stuff.”
I gave her hand a squeeze and said, “I don’t think he minds.”
She looked over my shoulder and replied, “He never minds.”
No, she was right. Apparently Super Max was pretty content with taking care of half the town, such was his wonderfulness.
That, too, I suddenly detested.
Her hand gave mine a squeeze as her attention came back to me. “I promise Nina, because Curtis is gone this won’t get to be a habit. I’ve got people who look out for me, a lot of friends, family close, people who take me grocery shopping, a girl who comes in to clean the house, you know, stuff like that.”
“It’s okay,” I promised, wondering why she felt she had to reassure me about these things. Then again she lived in town and pretty much everyone in town, including Max, thought that he and I were going somewhere and we were doing it together.
“You should know something else too,” Bitsy said, calling my attention to her and she kept talking. “Harry came by yesterday. He’s torn up.” She shook her head but continued. “We won’t talk about that but anyway, he said he met you and so did Shauna.”
“Yes,” I confirmed, she gazed at my face and I knew she read my opinion about Shauna because our eyes locked and we shared a silent moment of keen understanding about Shauna Fontaine.
Then her hand squeezed mine and she carried on, “He told me what Shauna said to you and, you should know, it isn’t true.”
“Sorry?”
“Max,” she went on. “He takes the jobs out of town because he makes really good money doing them. He’s never gone long, three months, sometimes six or eight, but not often and he never takes the big ones that last forever. He likes to be home and, sometimes, even when he’s on a job, he’ll come home for weekends and stuff.” I nodded, she kept tight hold of my hand and continued speaking. “He doesn’t rent that house for the money, like Shauna said. He’s got money. Not only does he make good money but he’s also got some besides, from, um… you know,” she hesitated then finished, “a little nest egg.”
I didn’t know and I didn’t get to ask, not that I would have, she continued.
“It’s just that he’s smart. If he’s going to be gone all that time, why not rent the house? He makes a bucketful when he rents it, he can get top dollar and he demands it. I would too. I mean, who wouldn’t? His house is great.”
I didn’t want to be in another conversation about Max’s finances, especially considering the reasons why I was in another conversation about Max’s finances, so I said, “Of course,” hoping that she’d be reassured and we could stop talking about it.
She nodded and went on, “The other thing…” She paused and her hand squeezed mine, not comfortingly, spasmodically, a reflexive action communicating something else entirely. Then this action was explained when she said in a low voice, the words coming fast and I knew it took a lot for her to utter them, “Beware of Shauna. I know why she was with Curtis and I know why she was with Harry. I’m guessin’, from what Harry told me, that you figured it out so you gotta know, she was with Max for another reason. She wanted him for a long time before she got him and she made no bones about it and when I say that, I mean a long time.” She paused to let that penetrate, before she finished, “She still wants him, maybe even more now that she’s lost him.”
Considering the fact that I’d recently decided to go home to England as soon as humanly possible and never come back to Colorado again in my life, it was unnecessary for Bitsy to give me this warning. Although I didn’t tell her that since her doing so was also kind.
“Thanks Bitsy,” I said and then told her the truth knowing, even so, she’d not understand my true meaning, “I’m not worried about Shauna.”
She smiled at me, it was again small, her face had not fought back the grief but she wasn’t letting it consume her, something else I admired her for, and she gave my hand a final squeeze before letting it go.
“Sucks,” she started, looking back at the reception desk and I saw her eyes lock on something and I looked to see Max and Mick were heading our way. “Finally, he’s found someone he’s into and it’s during all this crap.” I felt her eyes come back to me so I looked back to her and she was again smiling. “But we’ll get to know each other.”
“I’d like that,” I said quietly, even though I knew we wouldn’t.
“Me too,” she replied with feeling, not sharing my knowledge and making me feel guilty because she appeared to be looking forward to it.
“Bitsy,” Mick greeted as he stopped in front of us and I stayed seated. I did this out of habit. It was something I did for Charlie, keeping myself at his level, not making him look up all the time, reminding him of what he’d lost.
“Hey Mick,” Bitsy greeted back.
“How’s things, Nina?” Mick asked me.
“Interesting,” I replied and Mick smiled.
“Max, would you stay with me when they talk to me?” Bitsy asked and then said to me, “Or, sorry Nina, I should ask you. Do you mind?”
I shook my head and smiled at her. “I’ll just go get a coffee or something.”
“Thanks,” she said softly. She nodded at Mick, started wheeling away and Mick followed her.
Max stayed with me and I stood.
“Bitsy wants you,” I reminded him.
“Somethin’s up,” he said straight out, watching me closely.
“You better go,” I encouraged him, evading his subject. “Do you want me to bring you a coffee when I come back?”
He got close, tilting his head down to look at me but he didn’t touch me.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“I’ll get Bitsy a coffee too. Do you know what she likes?”
His finger went into my side belt loop again.
Then he said in a low tone, “Not gonna ask twice, Duchess.”
God. Seriously. He was so annoying.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re lyin’.”
My eyes narrowed, I yanked my hips away but his finger held fast and instead of tearing my loop, I settled and repeated, “I said, I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.”
I leaned in and hissed my lie, “All right, Max, I’m going out for coffee and my Dad’s in town. I don’t want to run into him and have another scene, this time in public.”
His finger in my loop drew me closer as his face relaxed.
“Just stay at the Station,” he suggested. “I’ll ask Mick to get someone to bring you coffee.”
“Police coffee?” I asked, sounding horrified.
“Yeah, Duchess,” he returned, grinning. “You think your system could stomach that?”
“No,” I lied again.
His grin got bigger and he muttered, “Christ, you’re cute.”
I sucked in breath, feeling those three words pummel me like blows to the gut.
Then I reminded him, “Max, they’re waiting for you.”
“Stay here, you want coffee, we’ll get coffee with Bitsy after. She’d like that.”
“Max, as I said, twice, I’ll be fine.”
He shook his head and his finger in my loop brought me even closer, inappropriately closer for a public place, a closer that was almost, but not quite, as close as making-out-in-the-kitchen c
lose.
“Now you explained it,” he said, “I don’t like the idea of you runnin’ into your Dad in town without me havin’ your back. So I want you to stay here. Yeah?”
I decided it was probably better to give in because Max wouldn’t let it go and I needed distance immediately. What I did not need were more indications of all the reasons he could easily be the love of any woman’s life.
I decided this but I also decided not to give in gracefully.
So I did it on the release of a heavy, annoyed breath. “Oh, all right.”
His grin came back, his finger left my loop but his hand lifted and curled around my neck, giving me a squeeze then he turned around and walked away.
Not five minutes later, a lady who introduced herself as Jane brought me coffee and when I took a sip it was just how I took it.
Yes. Max was so annoying.
* * * * *
We were on our way back up to the A-Frame.
It was after Bitsy’s police interview; after Max took us to lunch, again at that little caf�� by the river but this time it was warm enough for us to sit outside close to the rushing, snow-melt swelled river; and, after lunch, we took Bitsy home where she insisted we stay for a thank you mug of her homemade lattes which she created in a fabulous kitchen that also had a load of extra counters that had been built so she could reach them and, incidentally, her lattes were delicious.
Bitsy had been quiet and reflective through lunch and twice I caught her eyes filling with tears while she studied the river, though she never allowed the tears to fall. Max and I kept quiet with her, me because I didn’t know what to say and I was deep in my own thoughts, Max because, I suspected, he was leaving her be. When she went home, she seemed to perk up but I guessed this was because she wanted to entice us not to leave and I didn’t blame her. Being alone with my thoughts in my current predicament was less than fun. Being alone with hers would be torture.
Now I was studying the beautiful landscape passing me by wondering, if the cosmos had shined down on me and given me Max free and clear, if I’d have ever gotten used to the beauty of it and thinking at the same time that Max thought that we’d be spending the afternoon further exploring our relationship.
The Gamble Page 24
